


A different kind of lovesong

by Valandhir



Series: Songs of the Heart [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valandhir/pseuds/Valandhir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dwalin and Kíli are bonded, Fíli faces loss and a surprising choice...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A different kind of lovesong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stickdonkeys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickdonkeys/gifts), [Dream_Seeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Seeker/gifts).



> Alright... this was so not planned. I had wanted to work on Lionheart in the little time I had. I have so no clue where this story came from but it jumped me. I am still shy when writing romance and rubbish at writing smut. And I really will NOT apologize for the pairings. :p
> 
> The poem at the beginning and end of the chapter is James Fenton "Out of danger" - another wonderful poem by a great author. 
> 
> And yes, I blame stickdonkey and dream_seeker... they got me distracted with all their wonderful stories.

_Heart be kind, sign the release,_

_As the leaves their loss approve,_

_Leaves must learn like leaves to fall,_

_Out of danger, out of love._

****

Victory celebrations were supposed to be raucous, even when there was some time between the victory itself and the opportunity to truly feast, not that it did hurt this celebration at all, Fíli thought watching the dwarves who were cheerfully celebrating in the wide halls of Erebor. More than one year after the Battle of the Five Armies the victory still felt incredible – not just the victory of regaining their homeland but also of winning a seemingly hopeless battle against the Orcs. Without him noticing Fíli’s hand strayed to his throat, where he could feel the fine lone of the scar running along his neck, it was only the most prominent of his scars, along with the gash that ran across his forehead, slashing across his left eyebrow. He had come close to losing one eye to that wound, not that it had really mattered at the time – the healers had been convinced he was hours away from death anyway. He might have slipped into the darkness, given in to the pain and exhaustion had it not been for one voice calling him back from the brink: Kíli, pleading with him to hang on, to not let go and to fight. Through the pain, the blood and his own dazed will he had felt Kíli’s hand around his, hearing him call for Fíli to not give up… he had been Fíli’s lifeline, the small spark that had made him fight for each new breath.

 

The healers had called it a miracle but Fíli knew better, not that he had corrected them anyway. Better everyone, including Kíli believed it to be just that, a miracle, the strength of one brother keeping the other from death. If it only were the truth, these days Fíli wished it was true, that he could crush his own treacherous heart and stop knowing a different truth. He had not lived for his brother, nor for anyone else – but for his One. And therein lay the reason why he dreaded the continuation of this celebration: he loved Kíli, had loved him for a long time. Dwarves often told stories of finding their one – some were said to having undertaken long quests to find their true other half, some making pilgrimages to Mirrormere, for the waters of the prophetic lake were whispered to show the face one’s true love if looked into at the eve of Durin’s Day. Fíli knew it was all nonsense – finding the One was much simpler, no great deeds, no grand quest – it had been a simple moment at noontide, in the heat of late summer’s day, Kíli had come running towards him up the steep hills of Ered Luin and… he had known. A short moment of pain in his soul and the assuredness that had flooded into his heart – it had only been one moment, short and fleeting but it had been all it took.

 

He had waited, Kíli was young it might take him a few years to feel the same, it had been long years, but Fíli had been patient and not bothered his brother with untoward displays of affection. But when Kíli finally found his One, it had not been Fíli at all – his heart belonged to another. So Fíli had retreated into the role of a big brother, patiently listened to Kíli’s pangs of heart, his bouts of self-doubt and his lionizing his love, he had been the shoulder to cry on when Dwalin left for the East, and he had been the one to tell Kíli that Dwalin would join them on the Quest for Erebor. Kíli smile, his happiness had been so bright – so radiant – that day that Fíli had bitten back whatever words had been on his lips. He was not the one who brought that smile, that radiant sparkle to his brother’s eyes, and he never would be.

 

And so with a heavy heart he had resolved to let his brother go – to release him from all the hopes and expectations that still were in his heart, and to be happy for him. It was the hardest thing Fíli had ever done, it hurt – more than Orc arrows and more than any spider-bite. During the Quest he had watched as Kíli and Dwalin became closer and finally how Thorin approved of their match, promising them to be fully bonded once Erebor was secure.

 

And now – the time was here. Looking up and across the grand hall Fíli saw his brother and Dwalin standing side by side. Dwarven marriages were quite simple, they usually consisted of an exchange of vows in public and in the hands of the couple being linked by either the father of the younger partner or their Lord. Which was both in this case. Fíli was content to watch from a distance, drowning out the words, the ceremony, just watching Kíli, who on this day only had eyes for Dwalin. How happy his brother was, Fíli would swear there was a radiant aura all around him. Not that Dwalin was that much different, the way he looked at Kíli like he still was afraid Kíli might vanish with the first crow of the rosters.

 

Fíli knew Dwalin would be good to Kíli, he would love, adore and cherish him, like he deserved, he would always protect him, like he had in the battle. Kíli would have died, or been as severely wounded as Fíli had been if not for Dwalin. And maybe in a few years’ time they’d go up to _Frowe Hulda’s Hill_ and seek a miracle for themselves – Fíli almost wanted to imagine their children, strong as Dwalin and incorrigible like Kíli. Only… that thought burned like acid in his heart and admonished himself for being selfish. Kíli was happy, that should be more important to Fíli than anything else.

 

The ceremony was over and a lot of the guests clapped and cheered, some wolf-whistled, but that too would happen on a dwarven feast with too many warriors present. Fíli pushed himself away from the pillar where he stood and approached the couple, his face set in the warm smile he always had for his little brother. “Let me be the first to congratulate you,” he said, hugging them both. “may you lead long and happy lives, may your bloodline prosper and may your children’s children remember you fondly.”

 

There, he had said it, without bitterness, without malice and without the slightest hint that something was amiss. Kíli hugged him fiercely; Dwalin’s hug was a bit more careful. “Thank you, Fíli,” the warrior’s voice was a bit husky, like he had been wary of Fíli’s approval for their match.

 

“Be welcomed, _brother,”_ Fíli lightly clapped Dwalin’s arm, through his marriage Dwalin became a brother to him as well, and acknowledging that publically was important, otherwise rumors of dissent in the Royal House might spread.

 

“You have to admit it is somewhat unusual that you allow your youngest to marry, while neither you nor your Eldest heir are spoken for, it creates a dangerous precedent.” Fíli turned around, not so surprised to hear Dáin’s voice. The Lord of the Iron Hills was their cousin and being of the younger line of Durin’s House certainly had a keen eye for such details.

 

“I do not see the sense in waiting,” Thorin spoke, his deep voice easily carrying to the edges of the hall. “it makes the House stronger and were Fíli and I to perish, Kíli’s line would endure.”

 

“His line would be in question whether or not the marriage was even legal,” Dáin crossed his arms in front of his chest peering up at Thorin. The Lord of the Iron Hills was a short, greying dwarf who disliked having to look up to people. “far be it from me to wish them ill luck, but our laws are quite clear that either the King or his Eldest heir need to be married or spoken for prior to the younger members of the house being permitted marriage as well. And your betrothal was not even announced when the Dragon came.”

 

Fíli could see his brother pale, looking anxiously to Dwalin and then to him. He smiled at Kíli. “Do not worry, Thorin will make swift work of that nonsense,” he said softly, to encourage him.

 

“That law assumed that a King would have to be married to even have an Eldest heir, not speaking of several,” Thorin pointed out. “I find it hardly applicable in this case. I do not see why you need to dredge this up, Dáin.”

 

The older dwarf shook his head. “Because their marriage cannot be legal on these grounds – I know that the Kings of old assumed they’d be married and have sons, so the law was not used since before Belegost fell, I suppose, but here it applies all too clearly.”

 

Thorin shook his head. “Then rest assured, Dáin, that this state of uncertainty will pass soon enough, for I too have my heart set on my One, only that I have vowed to wait until the Kingdom was secured and had no chance to speak the right words yet.”

 

So Thorin had found his One? Fíli smiled a little, Thorin deserved so much happiness after the long dark road that lay behind him. Dáin’s face fell, his expression incredulous. Had Thorin said that Smaug had been his intended, Dáin could not have looked much more astonished. “I am not quite sure if I believe that,” The Lord of the Iron Hills eventually said. “but if it is so, why not make the announcement here and now and see if your intended will have you. It would set all doubts aside…”

 

“Are you calling me a liar, Dáin?” Thorin’s voice had gone dangerously low. “Or so garish to speak the words to my intended for all to hear?  Would you put your intended in such a spot?”

 

Dáin snorted. “Excuses, Thorin… if your intended truly existed and was cut from the material to be courted by a King such as yourself, a public proposal would be the least of your worries.”

 

Fíli sighed, Dáin unfortunately had a point here – most King’s in the past had chosen to be very public about their initial courting, thus no one could whisper that their respective spouses had been coerced into the relationship. It was a bitter lesson that Durin the Deathless had learned from his much disputed relationship with Tarýn. There were forms to keep to for a public declaration… Fíli had read about them but he had never actually seen one. He might learn something from this – and he silently wished Thorin well. He so richly deserved to be loved, hopefully his intended would see that.

 

Thorin had gone very still, his gaze leveled at Dáin, anger ablaze in his blue eyes. “Very well, Dáin. If you insist. Do stand aside, though, it is not you I have intentions for.” Some soft sniggers rose from the crowd, dwarven humor was rough and even in such a tense moment, the warriors openly laughed at a good joke. Fíli saw how Thorin procured a small item from his belt – so he must have thought of making his intentions known already, or he’d never have a proposal bead brought with him to the celebrations.

 

The hall had fallen silent, even the slightly drunk warriors had stopped their conversations. All eyes were on Thorin, who stood unmoving for a moment. Then he turned and walked in firm steps across the hall. Fíli’s eyes widened when he saw Thorin approach him, with his back to a pillar, it could not mean someone behind him, and a very swift glance to the sides ruled out someone beside him, for to his left stood Kíli and Dwalin and to the right stood Glóin with his wife. Fíli’s breath hitched in his throat, no… Thorin could not mean it, he could not… Panic overcame him and he considered running from the hall, pretend to be sick, but that would be an unseemly display.

 

Thorin reached him and their eyes met, Fíli could not look away, not from the intense, fierce gaze of the King. It lasted only for one moment before Thorin went to one knee before him, taking Fíli’s hands between his. Fíli’s heart nearly stopped, all this was part of a formal proposal… even the words were to some extent, there were many phrases or words a dwarf might choose from depending on what he wished to convey, but a tradition of thousands of years had shaped this moment.

 

Fíli, son of Dís and Dari,” Thorin’s voice was deep and firm, he showed special respect that he’d name Fíli’s father, in spite of the lower birth rank. “long has my soul wandered in the storms and through the twilight,” _There has been no other in a century, there never was one I truly loved, though I may have sought companionship,_ Fíli’s mind provided the meaning of the phrase, he had been taught all of them as a dwarfling. “and I had resigned myself to remain alone, when I first saw the light that was you,” _I have known I love you for a while now but it was not appropriate to approach you._ “through fire and blood I came to you, to place my heart and my soul in your hands. My heart sings for you.” _Accept me or destroy me. You are my One._

 

Tears stung Fíli’s eyes and he couldn’t speak… his mind was whirling, racing faster than a wind would fall down a Mountain. Thorin’s eyes were on him, so adoring… and so fearful. Fíli knew how it felt to be rejected by his One, he knew the pain… and the very thought of bringing the same pain to Thorin made him nearly tear up. Thorin – he deserved love, someone to make him happy, someone to love him… and he had set his heart on Fíli of all people. For one second Fíli considered turning away in rejection of the proposal, but again he saw Thorin’s eyes and the image of the light in them dimming, of the pain, of the sadness was unbearable. He wanted Thorin to be happy… so… could he… could he give him that?

 

The thought had come out of nowhere but rose in his mind within seconds – could he do this? Did he dare to? To accept Thorin’s love and give himself to the man who cherished him, doing all he could to give Thorin the happiness he deserved? Fíli was still overwhelmed by the thought that it was within his power to grant Thorin that happiness… and he knew he would. Taking a slow breath, he tried to find the right phrases… the right lines to make this sound good, make it sound heartfelt. “Thorin, son of Thráin,” he began, by leaving out the name of Thrór he made it clear that he spoke to the man alone, not the King, not the heir of Durin… several gasps were audible in the hall, as this could easily be the prelude to a rejection. “my heart has long erred on the lone paths,” _I believed I’d never be bonded._ “and my eyes were shrouded in the twilight,” _I was not aware of your affections,_ “but your light shines through the darkness like a star in a moonless night.” _I am awed and amazed that you truly see so much in me._ “Let my heart become yours, let your soul be mine as well, from now until the end of time.” The last was the hardest part to say – the acceptance of the proposal and a vow of faithful love, Fíli could not claim that Thorin was his One, he would not lie, but he would be faithful and love him. His hands closed around Thorin’s lifting them up to kiss them.

 

Thorin rose and enveloped Fíli in a fierce embrace, his strong arms encircling Fíli before he gently kissed him. The short, gentle kiss sent a warm shiver down Fíli’s spine, for there was a wealth of passion in it. Thorin’s eyes shone brightly, with a happiness that took Fíli’s breath away. Leaning close their foreheads touched and Thorin raised his left hand to show him the pearl – an intricate mithril bead shining with deep blue sapphires. “Allow me?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

 

How could he look at Fíli with such a longing, such happiness? Fíli was still overwhelmed, his head spinning, but he smiled up at Thorin. “Please,” he replied as softly, giving Thorin permission to place the bead into his hair. The strong hands carefully loosened one of the braids, deftly we-weaving it into a pattern of love and sealing it with shining white-and-blue bead at the end. His arm still around Fíli Thorin turned to the waiting audience. “Let it be known from this moment on, that Fíli is my cherished one, the only one to be by my side and rule beside me.” He announced, his deep voice carrying across the hall. After that the cheering did not stop for a long time.

 

***

 

The celebrations were over – at least at the palace, the city would probably be feasting for the rest of the night and not be sober for another day. Fíli was aware of Dáin’s eyes still followed them, the Lord of the Iron Hills had been surprised, and was not truly convinced yet. A part of Fíli wondered if the older dwarf saw something no one else did or if he simply was stubborn enough to not believe Thorin would ever bond. And Thorin was only a step away, his presence close to Fíli. “Ready to leave?” he asked in a hush.

 

Fíli felt a soft heat spread on his cheeks – they were expected to leave together and to ‘complete’ their bond, dwarves held little sense in waiting, once a proposal had been accepted, even if their full ceremony would be a while off. He managed a smile and took Thorin’s hand to feather a kiss inside the calloused palm, his answer bringing a smile to Thorin’s fierce blue eyes and he wrapped his arm around Fíli possessively as they walked out of the hall. Fíli did not struggle against the possessiveness, he knew that would always be part of it, Thorin was fiercely possessive of the things he cared for, be it treasure or people… it was an endearing trait, though Fíli still was surprised how much of it was directed at him.

 

They reached Thorin’s quarters, which were stark and spartan, if spacious. Drawing him close, Thorin kissed Fíli again, it was a slow, gentle exploration that Fíli willing opened up to, wrapping his arms around Thorin’s waist. How could such a simple touch make him melt like that? Fíli did not question it, he did not wish to wonder, he focused on Thorin, this was for him.

 

Thorin pulled back, his fingers intertwining with Fíli’s long hair. “I did not want to put you into a spot, Fíli,” he said his voice full of warmth. “I wanted to propose you alone… something special just for you, not for all the court to see.”

 

“Does time matter?” Fíli asked him, reaching up to touch the dark tresses framing Thorin’s face. “I might have fainted on you… at least I had the sense to not do that in court.”

 

The jest did the trick and Thorin smiled. “For a moment you looked like you would, you should have seen the shocked glance you cast Glóin.”

 

Fíli ducked his head and smiled, there always was an ease between them, a way they could even joke when Thorin is not a dwarf given to humor. “I… I had suspected so many other names, someone whom you knew all your life, like Varin or Skar, even Kíli, though you had agreed with his match to Dwalin…”

 

Thorin’s fingers cupped his chin, making Fíli look at him. “Kíli?” he asked, nearly incredulous. “for all that Dwalin is a good friend, I do not see the attraction. No, Fíli, my heart, it was you… always you.”

 

It were his words that slowly broke Fíli apart, such passion, such warmth… such love, they made him nearly feel unworthy. How can he give back something so wonderful? How can he give Thorin as much in turn? He took Thorin’s hands, walking a few steps into the dark rooms. “We should move away from the door… there will be too many strained ears outside as is. And this… this is only for us.”

 

On the entrance of the bedroom Fíli found himself drawn into Thorin’s arms, warm lips raining down kisses along his cheek and jawling, the gentle scratch of Thorin’s beard tickling his neck. Tiltiting his head, Fíli found Thorin’s lips, initiating a kiss of his own, melting into the caress of the warm lips. A deep growl resonated from Thorin’s throat. “Fíli…” his hands were buried in Fíli’s long hair, their grasp gentle. “I would claim you tonight… if you will have me.”

 

A small quiver ran through Fíli’s heart, after their formal consent in the hall Thorin could simply assume, take what he now had a right to… and he still gave him a choice. Cupping Thorin’s neck with his hand, Fíli drew him close into a warm kiss. “Yes,” he whispered against Thorin’s lips, feeling a shiver run down his spine as Thorin again took control of the kiss, devouring him hungrily.

 

They had to help each other with the armor, dwarven armor, even ceremonial one did not lend itself to being divested easily. When they both were rid of the layers of metal and chain they had worn, Fíli helped Thorin to get out of the leather undertunic he had worn, revealing the strong, muscled torso, marred with the scars and marks of a long, battle-worn life. Gingerly he traced the long gashmarks on the left side, where the white Warg had bitten Thorin. His touch elicited a soft hiss from Thorin, and Fíli leaned closer, his lips trailing another scar at the shoulder. He smiled when he felt the shiver run through Thorin’s skin when he feathered kisses down the scar along the collarbone, and he felt the evidence of Thorin’s reaction pressed into his tight.

 

“Fíli,” Thorin groaned, grasping him more firmly and steering him down on the bed in the middle of the room. “do you know what you do to me?”

 

He didn’t, but Thorin’s eyes, ablaze with desire give Fíli a fairly good hint that he is doing something right. Not trusting his voice, he reached up for Thorin’s shoulders to pull him down onto the bed too. For a moment the reality of what they were doing hit him, that he was about to give himself to Thorin, but the desire, the love he could see in Thorin’s eyes quenched those doubts swiftly. Then Thorin’s hands found him and Fíli forgot what he had been thinking about. The strong, calloused hands explored, caressed and incited his body in ways he had never been able to imagine. A moan escaped Fíli’s lips as his hips bucked up, rubbing against Thorin.

 

The older dwarf chuckled darkly, kissing Fíli’s jawline. “So gorgeous… golden…” he whispered. “you should see yourself, Fíli… like the sun, so radiant.” He reached for something outside of Fíli’s vision, procuring a small jar of oil, it smelled of herbs and bitterweed, a smell Fíli would always link to Thorin, to this moment from now on. When Thorin began to prepare him, Fíli tried to make himself relax, but Thorin loosened him up so expertly, that he hardly knew it had been uncomfortable in the beginning. Moaning Fíli nearly protested when Thorin eventually removed the fingers, looking down on him. “Fíli?” he asked, softly, asking permission even now.

 

His hands resting on Thorin’s shoulderblades, Fíli drew Thorin into a kiss. “Falûn,” he whispered. “it is Falûn,” he had always been told that it was tradition to share one’s true name with his chosen lover before submitting to him, the one name that no one outside the parents and the spouse would ever know. But only know Fíli realizes how much it means, that he is truly giving Thorin a piece of himself, something that no one else will ever share. But when Thorin leans down so close and whispers his own secret name into Fíli’s ear only moments before claiming him, Fíli feels more than the burn of being breached or the stretch that seems to tear him apart… he felt ecstasy, a rush, like a bond leaping into completion. He knew of course that it was incomplete, weaker than it should be because Thorin was not his true One… but he embraced it all the more fiercely, welcoming Thorin to his body… to his soul. And Thorin took him oh-so-slowly, taking his time to break Fíli apart with each slow thrust into him, until Fíli felt nothing anymore but him and the drowning wave of pleasure. He came, moaning and withering under Thorin as the King found completion inside Fíli.

 

For one tiny moment Fíli’s treacherous heart wondered how it would have been with Kíli… and felt a tear rise in his eyes. Hastily he blinked, trying to hide it, but Thorins lips gently kissed it away. “Did I hurt you?”

 

The voice held so much warmth, love and concern, it made Fíli’s heart almost burst. “No, my heart,” he whispered, embracing Thorin. “it was just… so intense… so much.”

 

They curled up around each other, snuggled together comfortably and soon slept. Fíli woke some time during the night, finding Thorin still tightly cuddled into his shoulder. In his sleep the king still smiled, relaxed and content like Fíli had rarely seen him. Smiling Fíli ran his hand through the dark mane streaked with grey. Thorin may not be his one, but Fíli was happy that he could give him this… that he could give him that much peace. He leaned in and kissed the dark head, snuggling in with him again. In his mind he pictured Kíli for one last time – Kíli who now belonged to Dwalin in much the same way Fíli belonged to Thorin, picturing his brother’s face, Fíli slow let go, releasing what he felt for him.

 

_I was cruel, I was wrong -_

_Hard to say and hard to know._

_You do not belong to me._

_You are out of danger now -_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of non-profit fan fiction using characters from the Hobbit/Lord of the Rings world, which is trademarked by J.R.R. Tolkien. All characters created and owned by Tolkien INC, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of Middle Earth. The story I tell here is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of J.R.R. Tolkien's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line. I am grateful to J.R.R. Tolkien for his wonderful stories about Middle Earth, for without his books, my story would not exist.


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